


inspire

by brandywine421



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 11:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer is Brendon's inspiration.  (Non-band AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	inspire

Spencer let out a heavy sigh and raised his eyes to the broken clock that was still not flashing 5 o'clock yet.

It had to be broken since this day had already been twice as long as a normal day.

Not that he had a busy weekend planned or anything.

But he'd already missed his normal lunch visit to the redbox for a new DVD and he knew he'd be stuck with a Pauly Shore movie if he got there too late.

His life was so exciting.

He shook off his dark thoughts.

He had only been in town six months and he done okay for himself so far. He had a decent studio apartment and a decent job manning the desk at the lawyer's office and a decent life with his cat.

Sparky was the only good thing he'd gotten out of the two year relationship with The Douchebag.

He'd make friends eventually.

When he was ready, he'd do more than take the subway to work and home every day. He'd deviate from his routine. When he was ready.

And with a broken clock over the door and an empty office because all the lawyers left early on Fridays, well, his routine wasn't going to change today.

Maybe he'd order Thai instead of Italian tonight.

The clock ticked and a whole minute had passed.

He groaned under his breath when the next sound he heard was the jangle of the bells on the door.

_"Just go in, you loser."_

Spencer saw a curvy brunette in spiked heels through the window and then a guy his age stumbled through the door.

Oh.

He was cute.

Spencer took in the curve of his ass when the guy turned to flip off the girl through the closing door.

He was wearing jeans that had to be constricting blood flow to something important and a bright pink t-shirt with a faded grinning crab on the front.

Spencer clicked the browser window closed to hide YouTube and read his greeting off the post-it stuck to the corner of the screen.

"Welcome to Harris, Walters, Jones and Harris, how can I help you?"

It shouldn't be that hard to remember, but he'd fucked up the order in front of 'Jones' and got a history lesson.

The guy had big brown eyes and lashes that Spencer knew had to be fake because they couldn't be real.

"Sir?" Spencer said when the guy just stared at him.

He jumped like he was startled and pushed out a folded piece of notebook paper.

Spencer opened it slowly but he didn't think he'd get Anthrax or a bomb just handed to him. He hoped.

_Hi, I'm Brendon Urie and I live and work over there._

Spencer glanced up and the guy pointed through the window at the boutique.

Brendon, he assumed, was pointing at the paper again.

_I'm an artist and I have a gallery show tonight and I want you to come. I've been watching you and not in a creepy stalker way, but you're my inspiration and I want you to come. Check Y/Y?_

Spencer looked up and Brendon was smiling brightly.

"Can you talk? Like, are you a mute?" Spencer blurted out before he realized how insensitive that really was.

Brendon nodded and flipped the paper over.

_I'm not a mute, I can talk, I just don't. This is a free country and I can be weird if I want to._

There was a smiley face with its tongue stuck out.

_Please come to my show?_

He looked up again and saw Brendon grinning at him hopefully.

"How old are you?" Spencer asked.

Brendon's smile flickered but he reached into his pocket and flashed his driver's license.

He was only a few months younger than Spencer. But there was a smiling crab on his wallet.

Brendon sighed softly and dropped a shiny flyer onto the desk and took his wallet back with a wave.

Spencer opened his mouth to call after him but the bell was already jangling from his exit.

_A Study of Shine, presented by Blackington Gallery on the Square. Featuring the art of Brendon Urie. Invitation Only._

It was ten minutes past five when he looked at the clock again.

\----------------

He wasn't sure what to wear to an 'invitation only' gallery show but he figured he needed to dress up. He ended up in a clean pair of dark jeans, his best shoes and a white collared shirt under his shiny leather jacket.

Sparky meowed his approval and Spencer decided that since he was probably going to be murdered by a hot dude that didn't talk in a creepy warehouse or something, that he'd be good enough.

And he had an invitation.

His family kept saying he was a hermit and he needed to get out of his apartment or come home, so at least this could be something he'd done other than "working" when they called on Sunday.

The Square was closer to his apartment than his job so he decided to walk since it was nice out. And so he'd know his way home in case he decided to chicken out.

He'd had a long talk with Sparky about why he was going and the cat seemed to agree that it was only out of curiosity and nothing to do with how Brendon's ass had looked in those pants.

But he wished the cat had made him dress up nicer when he saw the line of fancy cars lined up at the valet station in front of the Blackington gallery.

Shit, what was he doing at a place like this?

He hesitated but squared his shoulders. He couldn't back out now he was here.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but it's invitation only tonight, it's a show, the pieces will go on sale at a later date and I'm sure Mr. Blackington will send you an invitation to that, but tonight, I'm sorry, you can't come in," the bulky man at the front door was explaining to a lady in a long black dress.

"But..." she started.

The guy glanced over at him and saw the invitation in his hand and moved the lady, carefully, aside. "You can go in."

Spencer didn't argue, he didn't want to listen to the lady bitch out the bouncer at an art museum. She seemed the type that might end up at the law firm suing for something ridiculous.

He stepped into the gallery and felt slightly better when he saw several men in jeans and t-shirts scattered around with the 'fancier' people. People were drinking beer and champagne and it was more laid back than he'd expected with the limos outside.

He took a beer from one of the waitstaff and glanced around for Brendon but found only mingling guests.

He glanced at the wall in front of him and found a massive canvas covered in swirls of blue. There was a silhouette of a man walking down a sidewalk, the space behind him colored in dark blues and blacks but the sidewalk was a lighter blue in the direction the man was headed.

It did, kind of, look like him from the hair silhouette alone, but he was more focused on how good it was, down to the shadow of the laces on the pavement.

"You came," a woman said from behind him. He recognized her as the woman that had been with Brendon this afternoon.

"Yeah, not every day I get an invitation to something like this from a stranger," Spencer replied.

She smiled, offering her hand. "I'm Vicky T, Brendon's my roommate. I'm, kind of, his manager. He has a lot of friends that play manager, though, so that might not mean much as you mingle."

"Spencer Smith," he said, appreciating her firm handshake.

"A name to the face. Brendon's been infatuated with you since you started working at the law office. Not in a creepy way, I swear, he's too shy to approach anyone to actually talk to them..."

"So he does talk?" Spencer asked.

Vicky's smiled flickered but returned before he could really say it happened. "He hasn't in a while, but yeah, he does. Anyway, he got all these done because you flipped something in his crazy little head. So I hope you're not an asshole. I hate when he does the dark paintings, they freak me out."

"This is really good," Spencer said, trying to catalog everything to freak out later.

"He's a great artist..." Vicky started, stumbling when Brendon came out of nowhere and grabbed her from behind, sinking low and peering over her shoulder like he was being chased.

"Jesus, Bren, what is it?"

Brendon pointed at a tall, thin guy who was scanning the room.

"Fuck, who invited William? Stop hiding, you look crazy, Brendon. This is Spencer," Vicky said, pulling him from behind her.

Brendon's face lit up.

"Yeah, I came. Thanks for the invitation," Spencer said.

Brendon looked even better tonight in a pair of tight dress pants that at least looked slightly easier to get into than the jeans from earlier.

Brendon motioned around the room as if to tell Spencer to look around but the William guy had joined them.

"There you are. I almost think you're hiding from me, Brendon, and that's not very nice," the guy said with a hint of an accent.

"What are you doing here, William?" Vicky asked.

"Ryland invited me. He knows how much I appreciate Brendon's ass...I mean, his art," William said.

Brendon let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a 'meep'.

"Shoo, go play with Gabe or Pete and leave us be, we're working over here, you can hit on Brendon when he's off the clock," Vicky said. 

William opened his mouth to reply but Spencer didn't get a chance to hear it because Brendon put his hand on his arm and led him over to another painting.

This one didn't have a silhouette but was a full body shot from behind below the neck and Spencer had the urge to turn around to see if he really looked like that.

"So, you painted a bunch of pictures of me when you didn't know my name?" Spencer asked.

Brendon nodded.

"You know that's weird, right?"

Brendon nodded again but he was smiling.

Spencer liked his smile. 

"Well, you did warn me that you were weird up front. Show me more, that guy's watching you again."

Brendon winced but took Spencer's elbow this time and led him toward the next painting.

\----------------

"So this must be the infamous unnamed man we have to thank for Brendon's new work," a short tattooed man with strange charcoaled eyes said when Spencer was helping Brendon hide by sitting with him in a small lounge to the side of the gallery.

It was weird that Brendon didn't talk and Spencer really liked him anyway.

"Spencer Smith," he said, shaking the man's hand.

"Pete Wentz, one of Brendon's many managers. And friend, we are still friends, right, B?" Pete asked.

Brendon gave him a thumbs up. 

"Cool. So, do you like what you see?" Pete asked.

"It's awesome. I don't know much about art, but I think it's awesome," Spencer answered honestly. "I'm still not sure why I'm his inspiration, but it's really cool."

Brendon beamed.

"The whole silence thing freaks a lot of people out, but Brendon's pretty amazing even when he's not being a stubborn dick," Pete said.

Brendon flipped him off.

"Vicky wants you to go see Ryland with her, they're by the bar," Pete said, taking Brendon's seat when he reluctantly followed his directions.

"So what's his deal?" Spencer asked when he was sure Brendon was out of earshot. "With the whole talking thing? I mean, he put on his note that it was voluntary, but, it's weird."

Pete sighed. "It's his story to tell but since he won't speak, I'll fill you in on what I know. He had a really shitty ex-boyfriend. We think their fights went a little further than verbal, if you catch my drift. Anyway, the asshole used to always bitch at him about talking too much and scream at him to shut up...so he did. Scared the hell out of us at first, but he's a rapid fire texter, so he swears he's okay. It's just been a year and a half, you know? And the ex is long gone, we took care of that asshole, but he just says that he's into 'showing' and not 'telling' right now."

Spencer had a rush of pity, but it was quickly squashed when he saw Brendon laughing across the room with Vicky and a tall man that he assumed was Ryland.

"He likes you. Which I can't really approve of since I don't know you. And I probably shouldn't have told you all that," Pete said, his face dropping with realization.

"No, it's cool, thanks for telling me. I just, don't get out much. I just moved here after a bad breakup of my own. New start and all that. The most I leave the house other than work is to pick up take-out. I've never seen him watching me or anything, I just met him today."

"Brendon gets caught up in his work. And I think his work this time is to 'show' you that he likes you. And if he likes you, well, that means his friends will like you, too. After a full background check, of course," Pete said.

"Who's the William guy?" Spencer asked.

"He's harmless. He's been hitting on Brendon since before the ex left, he knows better than to do anything more than flirt," Pete shrugged. "He's a friend. Brendon used to sing with him and his band."

"Brendon sings?" Spencer asked, surprised. The guy didn't talk.

"He used to. He used to get offers for record deals but he's focused on his painting for the past few years. The ex, sort of, ruined music for him, we think," Pete said quietly. "William thinks he can get him back into it, but, well, Brendon's not into him like that."

Brendon returned, dragging the tall man behind him.

"Greetings, Mr. Smith, Brendon has been telling me all about you," the man said. "Ryland Blackington, pleasure to meet you."

Spencer didn't say anything when the man kissed his hand.

"Stop the shit, Ryland, he's new," Pete said. "Ryland thinks he's a performance artist or some shit, but he's really just a failed actor."

Ryland swatted his head.

"What has Brendon been saying about me?" Spencer asked, smiling at Brendon who actually looked nervous.

"Look at the walls, he's been saying a lot," Ryland replied. "What's your story?"

"Oh, I just moved to town a few months ago, I'm a law clerk on paper, but I'm really a secretary, I think," Spencer said. "I go to work, sit at a desk and get a paycheck."

"Where are you from?" Ryland asked.

"Interrogation time," Pete said.

"Vegas. But I was living in Chicago for a while with my ex before it ended," Spencer said. "This is my new start."

"Gotcha. Bren's from Vegas," Ryland said.

Brendon shrugged and made an x over his heart.

"Yeah, he has no love for the place, bad family stuff," Ryland said.

Brendon turned to him mimicked drinking something.

"Um, do I want to go out for drinks?" Spencer asked. Brendon nodded brightly.

"Sure, I guess. I don't have to work tomorrow. And I think I have to give my info to your friend Pete for a background check."

Brendon swatted Pete and frowned, pointing at him.

"Fine, fine, I know. Go mingle and I'll see if Ryland can schmooze the latecomers about your absence," Pete said.

It was weird, but Spencer was really glad he'd come.

\----------------

Brendon led Spencer through the back door and across an alley to another back door of the neighboring building,

Lots of voices yelled hello to Brendon as Spencer was half-dragged through a kitchen into a busy bar.

"Brendon, buddy, where've you been? You've got your good pants on, did I miss a show?" the bartender called to him.

Brendon flipped him off and then raised two fingers and pointed at the guy.

"Coming right up!"

"Do you know everyone?" Spencer asked.

Brendon reached over and took Spencer's phone out of his pocket, programming in a number and handing it back.

"Oh, are you going to text me?"

Brendon nodded and was already tapping into his phone as he sat down at an empty table.

Spencer sat down across from him and his phone buzzed with a text.

_Hi. Are you having fun? B/c i dont want to freak you out too much._

"Yeah. It's the most interesting thing that's happened to me in a long time. And you seem cool," Spencer replied.

His phone buzzed again. _Did Pete tell you why I dont talk?_

"Yeah, your ex sounds like an asshole. I know way too much about those. My boyfriend cheated, a lot, I found out later. Enough for me to want to ditch Chicago forever. Too many memories, you know?"

_Friends?_

"They were all my ex's friends first. And they knew he was cheating on me, so, I don't consider it as much of a loss," Spencer said.

_I'm sorry. Your friends obviously suck._

"Yeah, wish I'd known it sooner. But things are...level here. I like it. Even though I'm living the most boring life ever, it's kind of nice not waking up hungover and mad every morning."

Brendon nodded.

"Your friends seem nice. You don't seem to like schmoozing with the customers, though," Spencer said.

_Painting's not work for me so I dont care how much they pay for it. I just like to pay my bills and eat and stuff. Ryland & Vicky & Pete & Shane make me do the shows. Theyre so boring ok & rich & fake._

Spencer smiled. "True, but you're eating, aren't you?"

Brendon shrugged, blushing.

Spencer couldn't actually be falling for a guy that didn't talk. But fuck, he was cute and nice and he'd fucking _painted_ him.

_I dont do well with the clients. when I gave up talking - I got more popular because i was weirder. They buy my stuff so they can say they got it from the crazy kid prodigy._

"You're a prodigy? How old were you when you first started painting?" Spencer asked.

The bartender put down three beers and pulled up a chair. "Brendon started painting his senior year of college. I'm Shane, and you're totally his new inspiration."

"Yeah, that's what I hear," Spencer said.

"Brendon's a musical prodigy, he's been playing piano since he was three and he's never held an instrument he couldn't play," Shane said.

"Wow. I played drums until I graduated college," Spencer said, watching Brendon's face light up.

_Whyd you stop?_

Spencer shrugged, putting his phone down for a moment to take a swallow of beer. "Had to get a real job, and I didn't have room in my old place for my kit. I haven't really thought about it in a while."

_Dude, if you don't hate me tomorrow, youre totally coming over to play my drums._

"Brendon's going to make you play his drums," Shane said.

Spencer smiled. With Brendon's friends around, he didn't really need to talk. They seemed to know him well enough to speak for him, and for him to let them.

Spencer missed friends like that. He wasn't sure he'd ever had any friends like that in hindsight.

He snapped out of his daze when Brendon leaned across the table and stuck something to his forehead.

"Ooh, you got tagged," Shane laughed.

Spencer plucked the bright pink post-it off his face and looked at it.

_EMO._ There was an arrow pointed down.

Brendon was making the 'shame on you' sign with his fingers.

"I guess you do find ways to get your message across. And yeah, I'd like to see your drum kit sometime," Spencer said, folding the post-it and flicking it at Brendon.

\----------------

Spencer stayed way too long at the bar, long past closing with Brendon and his close-knit group of friends who seemed be well trained in interrogation techniques.

By the time Brendon started dozing off against the big guy, Zack's, shoulder, Spencer had told them most of his life story and even with the beer goggles, he actually thought he'd made friends.

Even William seemed like a cool guy and Spencer had invitations to clubs and restaurants written in Pete's eyeliner pencil on his arm up to the elbow.

Brendon was...strange, sure, but he was fucking amazing.

He made his friends laugh without saying a word and the text messages seemed extraneous when Brendon said so much with his expressions.

Spencer really wanted to hear his voice, but he wanted to hang out with him regardless.

Sparky woke him up before noon on Saturday, meowing and scolding him for not leaving him home alone all night, but for once, Spencer didn't feel guilty at all.

He wasn't sure what the timeline was for a 'courtship' like this, but Brendon texted him first asking to lunch.

Spencer considered it, scritching behind the tabby cat's ears. Was it too soon?

After a few minutes, he realized he didn't care.

He loved Sparky, but he didn't want to be the chronic bachelor dude with cats. Not yet anyway.

He met Brendon outside of the boutique that he'd found out last night belonged to Vicky.

Brendon was standing on the sidewalk smoking and Spencer was nervous for a moment until Brendon turned his bright smile at him.

"Hey, I didn't know you smoked," Spencer said.

Brendon shrugged and blushed before dropping the cigarette into the ashtray and linking elbows with him to lead him inside.

The shop was filled with clothes his sisters would die for but Spencer was distracted by the murals on the walls and doors. 

Brendon led him behind the counter and up the stairs to a room that looked like a lobby with a large window decorated with mannequins and three doors, one on each painted wall.

"I guess a plain wall's like a canvas to you?" Spencer asked.

Brendon's eyes lit up and he smiled.

"That's cool," Spencer said, following him through one of the doors.

It was a drastic difference from the colorful walls he'd seen so far with the bright white walls and white curtains over the windows.

It was a forest of easels and canvases, paint cans and brushes in a path through the room.

"Candyland for painters, or something?" Spencer asked.

Brendon startled him, throwing both arms around him and hugging him tightly.

He smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. Which was weird for a guy and not a cup of coffee, but Spencer bet he would taste better.

Spencer walked through the path of paints, scanning the paintings in progress as he followed the trail on the plastic that covered the floor.

He saw Brendon bouncing on his heels by the door but Spencer wanted to see everything before he went back to him.

Ryland said that painting was how Brendon told them that he liked him.

Most of them were too unfinished to tell him anything but when he got to the easel at the end of the path, in the middle of the room, he recognized himself. Smiling.

Brendon was flailing his hands and looking upset but Spencer sat down on the stool to look at the painting. It had to have been done last night or this morning considering the sketch of clothes were the ones from last night.

Spencer hadn't taken a picture with a real smile in a long time and this painting seemed to capture much more than a photo could have.

"My hair is totally not that shiny," Spencer said finally when Brendon put his hands on his shoulders lightly.

Brendon answered by threading his fingers through Spencer's hair.

It felt nice.

"I had fun last night, too," Spencer said.

Spencer reached up and stilled one of Brendon's hands, standing you. "There's something I wanted to tell you, too."

Brendon raised an eyebrow and his lips in a small smile.

Spencer had pushed down a lot of impulses over the years and settled into 'safe' but he had a rush of affection and recklessness today and leaned forward, kissing Brendon chastely on the lips.

Brendon's cheeks were bright red and Spencer regretted it for a split second.

Brendon surged forward and kissed him, definitely not 'chastely', but with a passion that Spencer wasn't sure he'd ever had directed at him before.

"Jesus, Bren, already? You could have at least fed him first," a voice said from behind them.

Brendon released him and Spencer took a moment to catch his breath. He wondered if he could get sex hair from a kiss.

Spencer squeezed Brendon's hand back when he latched on and pulled him towards the voice.

He didn't remember this guy, but he recognized the enticing smell of lunch. "It smells like the food from that restaurant down the street," Spencer said.

"I guess I should be flattered you can identify my food by scent, but it hurts me deeply that you don't remember the name of my restaurant. I'm Alex," the man said, offering his hand.

"Shit, yeah, I order from your place all the time, I'm Spencer," he said.

Alex smiled. "Yeah, its a small delivery area so I remembered you when Brendon texted me to bring over lunch. Eggplant Parm for my vegetarian friend here and Shrimp Alfredo for his new beau."

Spencer turned to Brendon. "You really do know everyone in town, don't you?"

Brendon flushed and shrugged.

"He's an awful cook and I appreciate his business," Alex said. "And so does everyone down at the fire department."

Brendon made a 'blah blah blah' gesture and shoved Alex toward the door.

"He's usually not this rude," Alex laughed.

"Then again, he's usually not making out with guys either. Nice to meet you, Spencer!" he called when Brendon had closed the door on him.

"That wasn't very nice," Spencer said.

Brendon picked up a marker and scrawled on the dry erase board on the fridge. _Alex is a Nosy Gossip. Good cook, big mouth._

"He did interrupt us. But I guess that's okay. I think...considering everything, we should go...slow," Spencer said.

Brendon nodded and sat down, pushing Spencer's chair out with his foot.

"That's okay with you?" Spencer asked, slightly disappointed.

Brendon shrugged, reaching back to take the dry erase board down.

_You moved out of town to get away from your ex. And I don't talk because of mine. We have some baggage, y/y?_

Spencer smiled. "True."

_As much as I want to get naked with you, I don't want to fuck this up. I can be patient if you can._

"Bringing up 'nakedness' isn't really helping me be patient. But you're right," Spencer said.

Brendon nodded again and wiped the board clean. _We can still make out, though._

"Very true. But lunch first," Spencer said.

_And drums!_

Spencer laughed. "Yeah, I want to see your drum kit. But you can't make fun of me if I suck."

Brendon made the 'scout's honor' sign with his fingers.

He was waiting for the pin to drop, for the bad news to hit him.

But he liked Brendon too much to waste this time worrying about it.

\----------------

"Spencer, are you all right? It's Saturday and you never call on Saturdays, are you hurt?"

Spencer sighed. "No, Mom. I just...wanted to talk."

"Oh. And you're okay?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom, just...I met someone."

"Oh. Shit, let me sit down. Really? Spencer, that's great, I thought..."

"I know, me too, I thought I'd never get over Jon, but...this guy...I really like him."

"Tell me everything. Where'd you meet him?"

Spencer sat down and Sparky immediately took a seat in his lap, purring for attention.

"He works, and well, lives, across the street from where I work. He's an artist and he just showed up a couple of days ago and invited me to a gallery show he was having. He's really good, and he said he'd been watching me and that I inspired him. So he painted all these pictures of me, and it's weird, but it's...neat," Spencer said.

"That's adorable, if a little stalkerish. What else?"

"I went to the show and then we hung out after with some of his friends and then today I had lunch at his place and I messed around on the drums. He plays all kinds of instruments."

"So is he a musician or a painter? Both?"

"Both, I think. We're taking it slow. Um. He doesn't talk," Spencer said.

"What do you mean he doesn't talk?"

"He doesn't talk. He took this weird vow of silence or something after his last breakup and he doesn't talk. Text and writing, yeah, but non-verbal. His friends say he's got an amazing singing voice, but he hasn't spoken for over a year."

His mother sighed. "You definitely don't pick an easy one, do you?"

"I really like him, Mom. Even though he doesn't talk. And we're both going slow because, well, we're both getting over our last exes. But he's funny and nice and we like a lot of the same things, he's vegetarian but..."

"You like him a lot, honey. I think that's great."

"He's...I'm worried I like him too much. But he's...great," Spencer said.

"You can trust your instincts, honey. It sounds like he's been hurt before, too, so hopefully he won't screw you over like the last one. He sounds like a very nice boy. Has he seen a therapist about not talking?"

"I don't know. His friends seem to think he's okay and they're pretty protective. I got a lot of death threats already if I hurt him," Spencer said. "For someone that doesn't talk, he gets his message across. It's different, but...I like him, Mom."

"I'm happy for you, Spencer, but you know I have to say it. Is it too soon? How well do you know him after two days?"

"He's been up front about everything so far. And his friends...well, they speak for him a lot. I mean, his ex was an asshole, I think. And he hasn't been out with anyone since and...he likes me. And he let me play his drums and...he makes me laugh."

"Hmm."

"What's that mean?"

"You're old enough to make your own decisions, I just hope you aren't taking on more than you can handle right now. It seems like this boy has a lot of baggage. I just hope you're ready for it."

"I want to be. I want...to hear him talk. I don't care if he has a helium voice, I just...want him, Mom."

"That sounds...too serious of a statement for someone you just met. But I trust you. We're still down to visit in a few weeks, hopefully you'll have him talking by then. How's Sparky? You aren't neglecting my grandson, are you?"

"Sparky is fine. He's still awful at giving advice, but he's fine," Spencer said.

"Let me know what Sparky thinks of your new boyfriend and I'll probably have more to say. Be careful, baby, and...I'm happy for you."

Spencer hung up, feeling slightly better that his mom was at least slightly optimistic.

He'd never felt this way about Jon, it was different. The best kind of different.

\----------------

Spencer started counting down the minutes at work with optimism instead of boredom since meeting Brendon.

Some days Brendon brought him lunch and some days, Spencer spent his lunch in Brendon's music room banging on his drums while Brendon painted.

They made out a lot, too.

But after two weeks of getting to know each other, Spencer was getting tired of moving 'slow'.

And tonight, Brendon was coming to his place to meet Sparky and hopefully let Spencer take care of those tight pants Brendon always wore.

He was a little more nervous, though, because Brendon said he didn't like cats, but Sparky had promised Spencer he would behave.

If Brendon could have a self-imposed vow of silence, then Spencer could talk to his cat.

He hurried home, making two stops on the subway to get dinner and then to get supplies that he hadn't paid for since Chicago.

He didn't want to get caught without condoms, or lube, if the situation progressed that far.

Sparky silently judged him while he tucked the personal items into the bedside drawer but the cat had lots of encouragement to offer when he spread the food out on the table.

"You get leftovers maybe, but you've already eaten," Spencer said to the cat when the doorbell rang.

Brendon smiled brightly when he opened the door and Spencer took the bottle of wine and small gift bag from him curiously before pulling him in for a long kiss.

He'd never been kissed the way Brendon kissed.

Brendon's whole body jolted when Sparky meowed loudly.

They both glanced at the cat as he batted over the gift bag and meowed again.

"Sorry, this is Sparky," Spencer said at Brendon's startled expression. But Brendon stopped him when he reached for the bag.

Brendon pointed at the wine and then at Spencer. Then he pointed at the bag and then the cat.

Sparky inched his way into the bag, his tail flicking intently but he finally meowed again and emerged from the bag with a toy mouse in his mouth.

The cat abandoned the mouse immediately and crawled back into the bag.

"I think he likes his present. Are you hungry?" Spencer asked, turning back to Brendon.

Brendon smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

Spencer was too distracted by his mouth to catch on to Brendon's fingers unzipping his jeans until he was palming him through his boxers.

"Mm, no fair," Spencer said. "No exhibitionism in front of my cat, let's move this somewhere more private..."

Brendon glanced at the bag of cat and kissed Spencer on the nose.

Spencer pushed his fingers into Brendon's belt loops and tugged him toward the bedroom.

Hopefully Brendon would come to his house a lot more if his first visit was something to remember.

\----------------

He'd always liked the afterglow time to talk to Jon. When his ex was sated, he'd be more honest.

But even with the sounds Brendon had let out during their first round, he was still silent when Spencer had tied off the condom and stretched out.

Brendon splayed his arms over his chest and draped a leg across Spencer's closest, kissing his neck and collarbone lazily.

Spencer laced his fingers with Brendon's, studying his body in the lamplight now that he wasn't blinded by lust.

"I'm a pretty patient guy," Spencer said after a while, trailing his fingers through Brendon's hair. "I mean, I like you a lot and I'll wait. But...my ex, like, he wasn't like you. He talked, he just never said anything important."

Brendon was watching him with heavy-lidded but alert eyes.

"You talk more than he did without words...but it's killing me not to know what you're thinking. I won't ever be able to get past that wall with you. And I worry that...what if I'm falling back into the same trap? Choosing a guy that's never going to trust me enough to tell me the truth? I like you, and I want to think I'm patient, but...I also want you to know how fucking scary this is for me," Spencer whispered.

Brendon straddled him carefully and put his hands on Spencer's cheeks to hold him steady.

Spencer took what he could get and returned Brendon's kisses.

He was patient, really. He didn't think Brendon was like Jon, but the walls were there nonetheless.

He didn't mean to doze off but he blinked awake when he heard the soft rumble of a voice.

_"Hmm. Nice kitty."_

Spencer sat up and saw the bedroom door slightly open and Brendon sitting on the carpet in Spencer's boxers with Sparky by his knee.

_"I like Spencer, kitty. But I know I'm going to fuck it up. Don't look at me like that, you know it, too."_

Brendon's voice was different than he'd imagined it. Deep and smooth without a discernible accent.

_"He told me all this hurty stuff about his ex, kitty, and I know it took a lot for him to say it, but he likes me now when I don't talk - he's going to hate me when I do. My ex hated when I talked, when I sang, he said I talked too much for anyone to be able to stand me and I want Spencer to like me. The way I like him, and I don't...God, I'm talking to a cat..."_

_"Meow."_

_"Easy for you to say."_

_"Meow."_

_"You think I should let Spencer decide for himself. Of course you're going to be on his side, you're his cat. He's not going to leave you if you talk too much. He's going to know how stupid and annoying I am if I talk."_

_"Meow."_

Spencer wanted to find the infamous Oliver and kick his ass. But he couldn't.

_"Meow."_

He straightened the sheets and decided not to push Brendon anymore tonight.

"Sparky, leave Brendon alone," Spencer said.

The cat trotted into the room and hopped onto the bed, curling up on Brendon's pillow.

"You can't sleep there," Spencer said.

Sparky purred, sprawling out and licking his back paw indifferently.

"Sometimes my cat sucks," Spencer said when Brendon walked in.

Brendon met his eyes and took his hand, turning it and bending over to kiss his palm.

"I don't know what that means," Spencer said honestly.

Brendon folded Spencer's fingers closed as if to make him hold the kiss.

"I'm hungry," Brendon said in a shaky voice.

"Then we should warm up that dinner I brought home earlier," Spencer said.

Brendon nodded.

Spencer couldn't push. He climbed out of bed and paused long enough to put on clean boxers before leading Brendon out of the bedroom.

"Your cat totally tricked me," Brendon said, wrapping his arms around him in the hallway.

"He does that," Spencer replied.

Brendon was quiet and Spencer leaned his head on his shoulder.

"It means a lot that you talked to Sparky. I don't want you to think you have to, but you can. Talk to me, I mean. As much or as little as you want. I didn't mean to push you," Spencer said.

"Your cat pushed me, not you. I...really do like you. And my friends like you. And if...you liked me without talking...then I have to trust that...you'll still like me if I do," Brendon whispered.

"I like hearing your voice. And I can't wait to hear you...sing, if you feel like it. In the shower, or in the car...sometimes it looks like you're fighting to hold it in and I...just want you to feel like you can be yourself with me. I'm not like your ex. And I shouldn't have insinuated that you were like mine," Spencer said.

"I don't cheat. And I don't sleep with people I don't plan on being with a long time. My Mormon roots go for something," Brendon said.

"Are you going to make me have tons of kids with no birth control and give up coffee?" Spencer asked.

Brendon giggled and it was the best sound in the world now that he was letting himself make noise. "Don't worry, I've been lapsed a long time."

"You realize I'm going to tell all your friends that I healed you with my dick," Spencer said.

"I can't wait to see William's face if you say that," Brendon smiled.

\----------------

Spencer followed Brendon home the next morning to spend some time with his drums and wait for Brendon's "blinding inspiration" to get painted out enough for them to have lunch together.

Now that he was talking, Spencer wanted to spend even more time with him.

Vicky was swatting at Ryland who was perched on the counter swinging his feet when they walked into the boutique.

"Morning, guys, good night?" Ryland asked, ducking the newspaper Vicky was using to hit him.

"It was a really good night," Spencer answered, unsure if Brendon was going to continue speaking outside of his apartment.

"Yeah, really good. And his cat didn't even scratch me," Brendon said.

Vicky dropped the newspaper and Ryland fell off the counter.

"We're going upstairs, I need to paint and Spencer's going to play the drums," Brendon said.

"Okay, Bren, damn. Anything else you want to say?" Vicky asked, helping Ryland off the floor.

"Paint now," Brendon said, darting up the stairs.

"What happened?" Ryland hissed, stopping Spencer.

"Well, I would say that the sex was great enough to make him talk, but really, it was the cat," Spencer said.

"The cat?" Vicky asked.

"I woke up and he was talking to Sparky," Spencer shrugged. "The sex was great, too, but the cat is what got him to actually talk, I don't know how he does it. He's a really good listener."

Ryland embraced him tightly. "Thank your cat for us. Damn good to hear his voice again."

"I don't want to scare it away again. But I would like to punch his ex in the face," Spencer said.

"Pete didn't explain it to you? He was from London and Pete got his work visa revoked and had him deported. And a few people punched him in the face, too," Vicky said.

"Did he say anything about him?" Ryland asked.

"Not really. But he told Sparky that the ex never wanted him to talk, which is bullshit," Spencer said.

"Fucking Oliver," Vicky sighed.

"Come on, mind if I play some guitar with you a while since I can't annoy Vicky anymore?" Ryland asked.

"Sure, and then we can sneak in and see what Brendon's painting. I hope he's not doing nudes, my mom will flip out," Spencer said.

"You just don't want to share your magic cock with the world, I'm onto you, Smith!" Vicky called after him.

When they reached Brendon's studio, Spencer smiled when he heard a loud humming from inside.

"Shit, you get him back behind a mic and we'll all be begging for you to bless us with your magic cock," Ryland said.

"I should have never made that joke," Spencer snorted.

"Nope, you definitely shouldn't have," Ryland laughed.

Spencer grinned when he saw that Brendon had bought new drumsticks for him and put a bright post-it note on it for him with a smiley face. He couldn't wait to break them in.

\----------------


End file.
